Dear Friends,
I had been meaning to write this particular blog for quite a while now, and so here I am. This is one is meant for all the Pakistanis who are living abroad. There have been so many times in my life where I asked myself “what can I do to help Pakistan be better?” Having lived outside of Pakistan for my whole life, making occasional trips to Pakistan for holidays, I never really really lived there. Often times, I would criticize at the way people behaved with me, at the way the prices were raising in the markets, at the way people would drive, at the level of corruption and dishonesty and the idle youth. Of course, the number of problems can go on and on. However, I later realized that I am doing anything for Pakistan by sitting outside of the nation, and criticizing.
Whatever I may wear, whatever language I speak, wherever I travel all over, whatever I eat and drink, whatever media I watched, I am still a Pakistani at heart. That is my identity. Pakistan is where I was born. I believe that in order to be at peace with oneself, one has to define what their identity is. For me, that is being Pakistani. Sure, you don’t see me wearing green and white clothes all the time, nor see me carrying the flag all over town, but by not doing that does not make me less patriotic than those who do. I don’t speak excellent Urdu, I don’t really enjoy the game of cricket, I don’t even know the full national anthem in Urdu—but these things don’t mean that I am not a Pakistani.
For someone like me, who has lived outside of the country, it can often become confusing as we enjoy the environment of two different worlds. For those who have been living in the West find it even more difficult to define their character. Are they western, or are they Pakistanis, or are they a mixture of both? Sadly, most people are not able to come to such a conclusion, and are often confused about their identity. I think the saddest thing for me is to see Pakistanis, who claim they are Britishers or Americans, just by having a passport from that nation. Of course, there are some who have an American or Canadian passport, but tell others that they are Pakistanis. They are people who have matured and made peace with themselves.
So, it came down to the situation: how and what can I do to help Pakistan prosper? I think the best thing that I can do, right now, is to pray for the nation. I have already made up my mind that eventually I will move to Lahore, Pakistan and work there, but after having gained international experience. Here is what I am praying for Pakistan once a week. I hope this will help you as well to those who ask, what can we do to help Pakistan?
(1) 50 Years Of Misrule
a. Praying for the years of corruption and dishonesty at all levels of society to be eliminated.
b. Praying for the people in position of power to deal justly and fairly with the public, especially the police and ministers.
(2) Antagonistic Ideologies
a. Pray for the elimination of those madrassahs (religious school) where young boys are brainwashed into hating the Indians and the Americans, or anyone who is not a Muslim. Pray that this kind of brainwashing is erased so the young people of the new generation can be more tolerant of others. (The brainwashing has been so deep; my dad was telling me that young boys are being told that the more number of shias they kill, the higher their position will be in heaven!)
(3) Unjust Laws
a. Pray against discriminatory legislation and for the implementation of a fair system of justice and police force that will apply these laws
b. Pray for the elimination of laws such as the Blasphemy Law, which has been used in most cases very unfairly to target the minorities, as well as the Hudood Ordinance, which is unfair for the women. (One friend of mine asked me: how can a woman, who has been raped by a man, bring in four witnesses to prove her case true as Islam requires one to do so? If she cannot produce four witnesses then she is guilty of adultery and the man is set free!)
c.
(4) Persecution and Intimidation
a. Minorities, women and children are often the most targeted. Pray their suffering is eased and that they are not abused.
b. Police forces are notoriously known for abusing and torturing prisoners for their benefits. They are known for taking prisoners innocent people and torturing them.
(5) Religious Strife
a. Pray for the religious strife to end between the Sunnis and the Shias.
b. Pray for the end of harassment of minorities, such as the Christia and Hindus in the nation.
(6) Leadership Training
a. Pray for the young generation that is coming up now that they get the proper values and skills imbibed in them so they can lead the nation with just minds, free from corruption and dishonesty
I think the least I can do is at least pray for Pakistan. I believe in the power of prayer. I believe I can make a difference this way, and I am proud to say that I am at least doing something for Pakistan.
Yours praying away,
Mansur
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
The One about the Weird Time at Dunkin Donuts
Today was a dangerous day for me. The Frenchman’s death was on my mind from last night. I talked to my boss about it at work. Details were still sketchy. It felt so weird knowing that the murder happened so close to home.
I went to Dunkin Donuts in the morning to get my breakfast— Dunkin Donut is a craving I fell for today!
Standing there at the counter, waiting for the man to make my egg and cheese croissant sandwich, I heard a loud “excuse me” from behind me. It was a heavy and coarse voice. Don’t turn around Mansur- he is probably asking for the man behind the cashier. “Excuse me!” It was the same voice again. I turned around to see who it was.
He was a Saudi man, clearly in his 40s, with graying hair and moustache. He had a cigarette in his hand, having clearly ignored the no smoking sign at the entrance. There was a coffee and a half eaten donut in front of him on the table. He looked directly at me. I looked back at him, sternly.
“Where you from?” he said, in a rather loud and rude tone, with improper English grammar. I could not believe he was talking to me in that manner. Who does he think he is?
“Aish mushkillah!?” (What’s your problem?) I said back to him. I said it rather sternly.
He backed down and returned to drinking his coffee.
The scene, which lasted a quick few seconds, played over and over in my mind the whole day. Who was that man and what was his business with me? Was he asking me where I am from to make sure I was a not a westerner? Surely, I had ‘Westerner’ written all over me: Gap cap, Gap Athletic t-shirt, cargo pants, and Teva Sandals!
Having talked to my parents, they said next time, don’t talk back at anyone like this in Arabic. I thought maybe if that man heard me in Arabic, he would leave me alone. Dad told me that a lot of westerners talk Arabic now, and even keep a copy of the Quran with them in the car to convince people that they are not “infidels.” Talking Arabic to people is a bad option for me. I replied back to him Arabic to shut him and his rude manners. I was also told that talking in English is a better idea, because in such a public situation, people run away from westerners and no one really would kill someone in broad daylight. Had I talked to that rude man in English, maybe he would have backed down. The best option for me, as told to me by several people, is to tell the people directly that I am a Pakistani. No one wants to kill a Pakistani! Someone had the nerve to suggest that the man was probably picking me up! Yucccck! How disgusting!
I have restricted my outings now- at least for the time being. I cannot let those terrorists win. I cannot let this one killing take over my life. Some people want me to be more careful and alert, for there are “devils out there prowling around like roaring lions!”
Yours having-enjoyed-the-egg-and-cheese-croissant,
Mansur
I went to Dunkin Donuts in the morning to get my breakfast— Dunkin Donut is a craving I fell for today!
Standing there at the counter, waiting for the man to make my egg and cheese croissant sandwich, I heard a loud “excuse me” from behind me. It was a heavy and coarse voice. Don’t turn around Mansur- he is probably asking for the man behind the cashier. “Excuse me!” It was the same voice again. I turned around to see who it was.
He was a Saudi man, clearly in his 40s, with graying hair and moustache. He had a cigarette in his hand, having clearly ignored the no smoking sign at the entrance. There was a coffee and a half eaten donut in front of him on the table. He looked directly at me. I looked back at him, sternly.
“Where you from?” he said, in a rather loud and rude tone, with improper English grammar. I could not believe he was talking to me in that manner. Who does he think he is?
“Aish mushkillah!?” (What’s your problem?) I said back to him. I said it rather sternly.
He backed down and returned to drinking his coffee.
The scene, which lasted a quick few seconds, played over and over in my mind the whole day. Who was that man and what was his business with me? Was he asking me where I am from to make sure I was a not a westerner? Surely, I had ‘Westerner’ written all over me: Gap cap, Gap Athletic t-shirt, cargo pants, and Teva Sandals!
Having talked to my parents, they said next time, don’t talk back at anyone like this in Arabic. I thought maybe if that man heard me in Arabic, he would leave me alone. Dad told me that a lot of westerners talk Arabic now, and even keep a copy of the Quran with them in the car to convince people that they are not “infidels.” Talking Arabic to people is a bad option for me. I replied back to him Arabic to shut him and his rude manners. I was also told that talking in English is a better idea, because in such a public situation, people run away from westerners and no one really would kill someone in broad daylight. Had I talked to that rude man in English, maybe he would have backed down. The best option for me, as told to me by several people, is to tell the people directly that I am a Pakistani. No one wants to kill a Pakistani! Someone had the nerve to suggest that the man was probably picking me up! Yucccck! How disgusting!
I have restricted my outings now- at least for the time being. I cannot let those terrorists win. I cannot let this one killing take over my life. Some people want me to be more careful and alert, for there are “devils out there prowling around like roaring lions!”
Yours having-enjoyed-the-egg-and-cheese-croissant,
Mansur
Monday, September 27, 2004
The One where Terrorism Strikes Close to Home!
Terrorism has struck close to home!
A Frenchman has been shot dead in the city of Jeddah, in a district right next to where I live! There is a compound in that district known as Sierra Village. It was a compound that I had frequented when I was at school here. Most of the residents there were from the West. It comes as shock to me, and to others, that a targeted killing of a westerner has taken place in Jeddah.
Jeddah had always been a city that I felt very safe in, in comparison to a city like London or Lahore. Jeddah, my adopted home for 26 years now, is seeing the ugly face of terrorism now. Growing up, I never imagined seeing someone being murdered, and here I am today, hearing about the death of a person in the streets. I cannot believe how fast the world is changing nowadays.
Until now, I had been reading about killings in other parts of the Kingdom, mostly in Riyadh or Khobar. For days I would wonder why nothing happened in Jeddah. But now its Jeddah’s turn.
I don’t understand why a Frenchman was targeted.
I played out different scenarios in my head. Since France has opposed to Bush’s war on Iraq, surely this Frenchman was not killed because of the war on Iraq. Wait, maybe, he was targeted by the killer to send a message to the French president to take back the decision to ban hijab/ head coverings in French schools. Or simply, he was killed because he looked like a westerner. What was the Frenchman’s crime? I think his only crime was that he looked like a ‘westerner’: blond haired, blue eyed, white skin- the definition of a westerner that people have in mind. What if that Frenchman was a convert to Islam? The killer would have innocent blood on his hands now!
Sure, there will be some people who will talk about how many women and children are being killed in Iraq. Today, fifteen more civilians have been killed in an air raid by the US military. They will say that it is unfair of me to talk so much about this Frenchman and not talk about those who are dying daily in Iraq. Does the life of a Frenchman mean more to me than the lives of those in Iraq? Not really. To me, a person is a human, no matter what his race, nationality or religion is—he is a person created by God. The Frenchman’s life to me is as equal as the life of a child who was burnt in Iraq today because of the air raid. My sympathy is for both of them—since in the eyes of God, they are equal.
Why I am writing about this Frenchman is because his death has occurred in an area that is only five minutes away from me. When something like this happens, the reality of terrorism strikes close to my heart. It seems more real to me. It becomes more apparent. It makes me realize: I could very well be the next target. (for that, I will have to write to another piece!)
Already some people have told me to not go out anymore and cancel my weekend plans. People are speculating that after the westerners are targeted, it will be the turn of the expatriates of other nations. I am determined to not let the ignorant terrorist win. I am determined to stick with my plans and enjoy my life here. I don’t believe for even a second that what has happened here today in Jeddah is what most people would call ‘jihad.’
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/3690650.stm
http://www.cnn.com/2004/WORLD/meast/09/26/saudi.france/index.html
Yours on-alert,
Mansur
A Frenchman has been shot dead in the city of Jeddah, in a district right next to where I live! There is a compound in that district known as Sierra Village. It was a compound that I had frequented when I was at school here. Most of the residents there were from the West. It comes as shock to me, and to others, that a targeted killing of a westerner has taken place in Jeddah.
Jeddah had always been a city that I felt very safe in, in comparison to a city like London or Lahore. Jeddah, my adopted home for 26 years now, is seeing the ugly face of terrorism now. Growing up, I never imagined seeing someone being murdered, and here I am today, hearing about the death of a person in the streets. I cannot believe how fast the world is changing nowadays.
Until now, I had been reading about killings in other parts of the Kingdom, mostly in Riyadh or Khobar. For days I would wonder why nothing happened in Jeddah. But now its Jeddah’s turn.
I don’t understand why a Frenchman was targeted.
I played out different scenarios in my head. Since France has opposed to Bush’s war on Iraq, surely this Frenchman was not killed because of the war on Iraq. Wait, maybe, he was targeted by the killer to send a message to the French president to take back the decision to ban hijab/ head coverings in French schools. Or simply, he was killed because he looked like a westerner. What was the Frenchman’s crime? I think his only crime was that he looked like a ‘westerner’: blond haired, blue eyed, white skin- the definition of a westerner that people have in mind. What if that Frenchman was a convert to Islam? The killer would have innocent blood on his hands now!
Sure, there will be some people who will talk about how many women and children are being killed in Iraq. Today, fifteen more civilians have been killed in an air raid by the US military. They will say that it is unfair of me to talk so much about this Frenchman and not talk about those who are dying daily in Iraq. Does the life of a Frenchman mean more to me than the lives of those in Iraq? Not really. To me, a person is a human, no matter what his race, nationality or religion is—he is a person created by God. The Frenchman’s life to me is as equal as the life of a child who was burnt in Iraq today because of the air raid. My sympathy is for both of them—since in the eyes of God, they are equal.
Why I am writing about this Frenchman is because his death has occurred in an area that is only five minutes away from me. When something like this happens, the reality of terrorism strikes close to my heart. It seems more real to me. It becomes more apparent. It makes me realize: I could very well be the next target. (for that, I will have to write to another piece!)
Already some people have told me to not go out anymore and cancel my weekend plans. People are speculating that after the westerners are targeted, it will be the turn of the expatriates of other nations. I am determined to not let the ignorant terrorist win. I am determined to stick with my plans and enjoy my life here. I don’t believe for even a second that what has happened here today in Jeddah is what most people would call ‘jihad.’
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/3690650.stm
http://www.cnn.com/2004/WORLD/meast/09/26/saudi.france/index.html
Yours on-alert,
Mansur
Friday, September 24, 2004
The One with the Body Mass Index
Dear Friends,
check out the following link.
http://nhlbisupport.com/bmi/bmi-m.htm
Just fill in your height and weight, and it will calculate yoru body mass index. That way you can figure out whether you weigh normal or are overweight or not. Since I am going to the gym regularly now, I am more aware of what I am eating daily. I have started to keep a daily log of what I eat and what exercises I am doing. Tonight, I will be going out to Chilis for dinner. I have already made up my mind to have just the salad!
take care friends,
Mansur
check out the following link.
http://nhlbisupport.com/bmi/bmi-m.htm
Just fill in your height and weight, and it will calculate yoru body mass index. That way you can figure out whether you weigh normal or are overweight or not. Since I am going to the gym regularly now, I am more aware of what I am eating daily. I have started to keep a daily log of what I eat and what exercises I am doing. Tonight, I will be going out to Chilis for dinner. I have already made up my mind to have just the salad!
take care friends,
Mansur
The One with the 18yr Old Suicide Bomber
18yr Old Suicide Bomber in Palestine (23-09-04)
This picture shocked me out of my wits (just like the Abu Ghraib Prison Scandal pictures did!) I never expected the local Saudi Gazette to publish this. They just never publish anything like this. I am publishing it here not because I am saying that it is all right to go bomb other people (which is a very debatable issue and a very sensitive one) but am putting it here because it breaks my heart to see someone like her, who is merely 18yrs old, come to such a desperate situation. It breaks my heart to see people like her, not just in Palestine, but world over, who are robbed of their childhood: young people forced into child labor, exploited, prostitution, abused, harassed, killed, murdered, child soldiers and so on and on.
This is not an aim to make you feel guilty. This is not an attempt to justify suicide bombers. This is just something that has touched my heart deeply. I still wonder what the girl was thinking that morning. I still think about her emotions and feelings as she proceeded to go ahead with this act.
Its not a pretty scene, I agree, but I think thats the reality of the situation, and it is upto people like us to at least pray for a more peaceful world! The future generations deserve a better world than the world we received from the older generation!
Take care folks,
Mansur
Thursday, September 23, 2004
The One About My New iPod Mini
Hey everyone,
The countdown is finally over. The number of days I had been counting for this past Tuesday to come is finally over. For days I had been dying to get my hands on it. I finally received my iPod Mini!!It is silver in color, with white ear phones. There is also a belt clip to which I can attach my iPod Mini and be on the move. I have also receive a two-year apple protection plan, which means that if anything goes wrong, Apple will fix the iPod Mini!
Having checked out at several shops here in Jeddah, they were being sold out like hot cakes, and at almost double the price than the US. Since my sister was there in the US, I had asked her to get me one from there. Even there, in Cleveland and Houston, the iPod Mini were being sold out. She finally found the iPod Mini from a shop in L.A, California. Having realized what a big thing iPod Mini had become, she went ahead and bought herself one as well!
It is such a cool device….imagine, 1000 songs with you on the go! 1-0-0-0 SONGS! Can you believe that? I certainly couldn’t. I am just dying to get all my songs on there and then using the infamous “shuffle” button, and wait for the next song to come. I think that’s an amazing option to have…not knowing what the next song will be. You could be listening to Harry Belafonte’s Day-O Song, and then get switched to Jennifer Lopez’s latest single, and then get switched to Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time, and then to Backstreet Boys Quit Playing Games…gosh, I can hardly contain my excitement. What’s even nicer is that the iPod Mini includes a calendar, to-do list, and games and also acts as an external hard disk.
Now all this is really cool, except for the one thing: actually getting the songs onto the iPod Mini.
My Macintosh Power book is an older version and I have not yet upgraded to Mac OS X, and although I have the CD for Mac OS X, it is just taking ages to get that OS onto my computer. I have about 400 songs on my laptop, and I am dying to get those on iPod Mini. My Windows PC is giving me problems as well. It is not really loading the iTunes program from the installation CD I got with the iPod Mini. So, I am sending my PC to the repair shop today!
Whatever it is, I am so excited with the iPod Mini. I cannot wait to use it at the gym, while I am driving and while I am sleeping!
Check out http://www.apple.com/itunes/
While talking on iPod Mini and Apple, you guys have to check out the latest G5 computer from Apple...it is simply amazing,
http://www.apple.com/
and sorry folks, I will have to say this once again:
APPLE RULES ALL THE WAY AND IT LEAVE WINDOWS EATING THE DUST!!! (mansur doing his villanous evil laugh har-har-har!!!)
Take care folks,
Mansur
The countdown is finally over. The number of days I had been counting for this past Tuesday to come is finally over. For days I had been dying to get my hands on it. I finally received my iPod Mini!!It is silver in color, with white ear phones. There is also a belt clip to which I can attach my iPod Mini and be on the move. I have also receive a two-year apple protection plan, which means that if anything goes wrong, Apple will fix the iPod Mini!
Having checked out at several shops here in Jeddah, they were being sold out like hot cakes, and at almost double the price than the US. Since my sister was there in the US, I had asked her to get me one from there. Even there, in Cleveland and Houston, the iPod Mini were being sold out. She finally found the iPod Mini from a shop in L.A, California. Having realized what a big thing iPod Mini had become, she went ahead and bought herself one as well!
It is such a cool device….imagine, 1000 songs with you on the go! 1-0-0-0 SONGS! Can you believe that? I certainly couldn’t. I am just dying to get all my songs on there and then using the infamous “shuffle” button, and wait for the next song to come. I think that’s an amazing option to have…not knowing what the next song will be. You could be listening to Harry Belafonte’s Day-O Song, and then get switched to Jennifer Lopez’s latest single, and then get switched to Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time, and then to Backstreet Boys Quit Playing Games…gosh, I can hardly contain my excitement. What’s even nicer is that the iPod Mini includes a calendar, to-do list, and games and also acts as an external hard disk.
Now all this is really cool, except for the one thing: actually getting the songs onto the iPod Mini.
My Macintosh Power book is an older version and I have not yet upgraded to Mac OS X, and although I have the CD for Mac OS X, it is just taking ages to get that OS onto my computer. I have about 400 songs on my laptop, and I am dying to get those on iPod Mini. My Windows PC is giving me problems as well. It is not really loading the iTunes program from the installation CD I got with the iPod Mini. So, I am sending my PC to the repair shop today!
Whatever it is, I am so excited with the iPod Mini. I cannot wait to use it at the gym, while I am driving and while I am sleeping!
Check out http://www.apple.com/itunes/
While talking on iPod Mini and Apple, you guys have to check out the latest G5 computer from Apple...it is simply amazing,
http://www.apple.com/
and sorry folks, I will have to say this once again:
APPLE RULES ALL THE WAY AND IT LEAVE WINDOWS EATING THE DUST!!! (mansur doing his villanous evil laugh har-har-har!!!)
Take care folks,
Mansur
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
The One about the Ban on the Cell Phones!
Saudi woman talking on Nokia's "panda" phone!
Dear friends,
Of recent, there’s been a big debate going on in Saudi Arabia. What’s causing this furor? It is cell phones with cameras! Although these instruments are officially banned in the Kingdom, every second person you see has a phone has a camera with it. The most popular ones are what is known as “panda” which is the Nokia one- the wide one, with black edges.
From time to time, you would read in the paper about how some people, especially women, were using these cameras to take pictures from their phones and passing it on. Pictures were being taken of women dancing at weddings, where they are not covered in their veils and pictures were also being taken by young men of women in malls and restaurants. One too many times, these pictures got in the wrong hands, and brawls and fights occurred. There were even some marriages that had been called off, simply because the groom’s parents saw pictures of the bride dancing without any veil!
The issue thus became: should the Kingdom ban the cell phone completely, and who is at fault here for the messy situation: the technology or the people?
(1) The banning of the phone is still in place. However, people are still able to bring in phones from places like Dubai. Funnily enough, the mobile phone shops here sell the camera phone as well. One of my friends recently brought the Sony Ericsson phone. She said, all she had to do was ask for it, and the salesman simply took the phone out from under the counter. Did you know that the ban for satellite dish is still in place? (The authorities are simply bad in enforcing the ban since every rooftop has at least one dish now!)
(2) The second issue is bit more sensitive. The moral police in the Kingdom are blaming the technology outright for the ills of the society. They rant on and on about how television, books, media, the Internet and now the mobile phones are corrupting the people here. There is a small minority on the other end of the spectrum who say that it is not technology to be blamed, but rather the people who misuse and abuse it. I tend to agree with the small minority as well. How can one blame technology? There are so many great things, and ultimately it all depends on how you as a person use it.
Lets take the satellite dish. There are people here who will have a satellite so they can watch programs from their home country, watch sitcoms from other stations, news channels to keep updated and documentaries such as Discovery and Animal Planet. These are people who are sensibly making use of technology. However, and sadly enough, there are people who are using this technology to get all the porn channels. You can buy a decoder here illegally, which allows you to access all the free porn channels that are aired from Europe and Russia. Now that’s misusing technology.
Another example, the car. There are people here who use the car to get from one place to another. They don’t drive unnecessarily and use it when they have to. Even when they are out on the roads, they drive sensibly. Now, on the other side, there are these people who have access to great cars and all they do is go round and round checking out people, racing with one another, showing off their cars and making skid-marks on the roads. These people drive as if they own the roads: no indicator lights, breaking red lights, changing lanes abruptly, over speeding and so on. No wonder The Kingdom has one of the highest accident rates in the world.
There was one incident that happened in the Kingdom, after which, the police have decided to deal with the camera phones strictly. Now, they are able to stop you at checkpoint and confiscate your mobile phones, as it happened with a work colleague of mine. Now, they are able to take away your mobile phones at the Customs at the airport. It is sad to see the desperation of the police here in trying to ban the mobile phones, and at the same time, even sadder to see what some people can do with the cell phones.
In my opinion, I feel banning will not do anything. If anything, forbidden items are more appealing to the people, and they will be even more daring to get their hands on those very items. What needs to be done is to educate the population about the benefits of technology, and what should not be done. Those who are caught should be severely punished, to set an example to others, and their faces published in the papers, to make them feel like what it is like to be on the receiving end! Unfortunately, people are continuing to misuse the mobile phones.
But, there is one thing I don’t understand:
Why would you want to ban the mobile phones with cameras, when you can purchase digital cameras, some even smaller than the phones itself, legally in the market and use those for the same purpose?
Here is the website of the incident that sparked this debate and outrage in the Kingdom, and shows the level which the Saudis have stooped to!
http://www.saudigazette.com/ Check for the article called Sex scandal rocks Saudi Arabia by Albawaba
http://www.textually.org/picturephoning/archives/004532.htm
Other news:
http://www.arabnews.com/?page=1§ion=0&article=51217&d=9&m=9&y=2004
http://www.textually.org/picturephoning/archives/005233.htm
Take care and be on alert for someone taking pictures of you from their phones! You never know where you might end up!
Mansur
The One with the Charity School
Hi all,
Jeddah is known to all as a gateway to the city of Makkah. Pilgrims come here to Jeddah, before they proceed. The impression they have of Jeddah is an impressive one: big roads, big cars, big shopping malls, cheap prices, lights everywhere, big villas and so on. That’s not to say that Jeddah is without its problems: sewerage, traffic chaos, unfixed roads and so on. The point being that Jeddah manages to convince its visitor that it is a high-class city.
However, there is an area on the outskirts of Jeddah, where the inhabitants are living in their own world. There is no such thing as a “road”, power outages are frequent, most people do not have a TV, almost all don’t know how to read or write thus rendering them illiterate, and safety to them is just another word in a dictionary. In fact, this area was the same place where my driver was held at gunpoint and robbed of his cell phone. The people who held him up were local Bedouin illiterate Saudi youths. In the midst of this area, there is a school, which was set up by the overseas Pakistanis, for the benefit of the poor Pakistani children who do not have any means to an education. I had an awesome opportunity to visit the school several months ago. I had no intentions initially, but since I have a heart for social work, I gave it my best shot to go and somehow make a difference.
The drive this particular area was a long one; it took almost an hour to get there. Once we got to the area, we had to navigate amidst maze-like roads that were strewn with uncollected garbage and derelict houses. Paint was peeling off, air conditioners were half dangling out, window panes were broken, main door were full of advertisements stickers and stray animals were roaming everywhere. It was a depressing scene. How can people live here? I could only thank God for the comforts He has given me in the life I am living. God, why would you allow for these people to live like this?
After much searching, we finally found the school. This was one of the cleaner dirt roads. From the outside, it looked any normal building, with the same brown textured concrete. There was a school board atop the main door. It is written in Arabic. Upon entering the not so impressive main door, I met up with the principal. He was delighted to have me over, since I was the son of one of the members who set up this school. The principal showed me around the school. It became apparent real quick that this place was someone’s house before it was converted to a school. There were several classes, of different levels. The uniform for the students was the white local Saudi dress, known as thobe. The teachers were only around four or five. Every time I went to the classroom, the lesson would stop and the teacher would make all the students get up and say hello to me in unison. I got embarrassed about it, and had to tell the principal to not make the students do this.
There was a playground, a games room and a library, with two computers donated by someone. They did not yet know how to operate a computer, let alone how to switch one on. I asked the principal what he felt was the biggest benefit of having a school like this. He said there two things. One, the children’s education was absolutely free. Two, the children were learning the English language, as well as Urdu, in addition to several different subjects, which included social sciences, geography, maths, Islamic studies and so on. Talking on with the principal, I asked him what he felt the school lacked. “Sir,” he said, “we need English books for the students to read. We also need a bookshelf.” I knew I had a lot of books at home. “You know what, I have lots of books at home, which I used to read when I was younger. I can bring them over,” I said. The principal got excited. “And also, I happen to have a bookshelf as well.” Now, the principal eyes were lighted up, and I could see he was clearly delighted by this.
I got home, sorted out the books I had. They included the various encyclopedias, storybooks, Enid Blyton’s books, The Hardy Boys among others. There were about a little over 100 books. I went to the school again and gave them my books and my bookshelf as well. I kind of felt sad because this bookshelf had been with me for quite a while, but I was glad that it was being given to someone who needed it the most. I had the students carry the books and the shelf in. Their excitement was very visible. They began whispering to each other about the books they were getting. I helped the principal understand the procedure of checking out books, and how to keep a record. I taught him how to write down the name of the student, date checked out and the date it is supposed to be returned.
What I have done may be a very small thing to some of you, but it was clearly a very big thing for the students. My father met with the principal several weeks later, and the principal and the children were asking about me specifically. I had made a difference in their lives, and you know what, I felt good! It was the same kind of goodness I felt when I went to SOS Village Orphanage in Lahore, Pakistan, but that’s another story!
There are pictures available on www.picturetrail.com
Warmly,
Mansur
Jeddah is known to all as a gateway to the city of Makkah. Pilgrims come here to Jeddah, before they proceed. The impression they have of Jeddah is an impressive one: big roads, big cars, big shopping malls, cheap prices, lights everywhere, big villas and so on. That’s not to say that Jeddah is without its problems: sewerage, traffic chaos, unfixed roads and so on. The point being that Jeddah manages to convince its visitor that it is a high-class city.
However, there is an area on the outskirts of Jeddah, where the inhabitants are living in their own world. There is no such thing as a “road”, power outages are frequent, most people do not have a TV, almost all don’t know how to read or write thus rendering them illiterate, and safety to them is just another word in a dictionary. In fact, this area was the same place where my driver was held at gunpoint and robbed of his cell phone. The people who held him up were local Bedouin illiterate Saudi youths. In the midst of this area, there is a school, which was set up by the overseas Pakistanis, for the benefit of the poor Pakistani children who do not have any means to an education. I had an awesome opportunity to visit the school several months ago. I had no intentions initially, but since I have a heart for social work, I gave it my best shot to go and somehow make a difference.
The drive this particular area was a long one; it took almost an hour to get there. Once we got to the area, we had to navigate amidst maze-like roads that were strewn with uncollected garbage and derelict houses. Paint was peeling off, air conditioners were half dangling out, window panes were broken, main door were full of advertisements stickers and stray animals were roaming everywhere. It was a depressing scene. How can people live here? I could only thank God for the comforts He has given me in the life I am living. God, why would you allow for these people to live like this?
After much searching, we finally found the school. This was one of the cleaner dirt roads. From the outside, it looked any normal building, with the same brown textured concrete. There was a school board atop the main door. It is written in Arabic. Upon entering the not so impressive main door, I met up with the principal. He was delighted to have me over, since I was the son of one of the members who set up this school. The principal showed me around the school. It became apparent real quick that this place was someone’s house before it was converted to a school. There were several classes, of different levels. The uniform for the students was the white local Saudi dress, known as thobe. The teachers were only around four or five. Every time I went to the classroom, the lesson would stop and the teacher would make all the students get up and say hello to me in unison. I got embarrassed about it, and had to tell the principal to not make the students do this.
There was a playground, a games room and a library, with two computers donated by someone. They did not yet know how to operate a computer, let alone how to switch one on. I asked the principal what he felt was the biggest benefit of having a school like this. He said there two things. One, the children’s education was absolutely free. Two, the children were learning the English language, as well as Urdu, in addition to several different subjects, which included social sciences, geography, maths, Islamic studies and so on. Talking on with the principal, I asked him what he felt the school lacked. “Sir,” he said, “we need English books for the students to read. We also need a bookshelf.” I knew I had a lot of books at home. “You know what, I have lots of books at home, which I used to read when I was younger. I can bring them over,” I said. The principal got excited. “And also, I happen to have a bookshelf as well.” Now, the principal eyes were lighted up, and I could see he was clearly delighted by this.
I got home, sorted out the books I had. They included the various encyclopedias, storybooks, Enid Blyton’s books, The Hardy Boys among others. There were about a little over 100 books. I went to the school again and gave them my books and my bookshelf as well. I kind of felt sad because this bookshelf had been with me for quite a while, but I was glad that it was being given to someone who needed it the most. I had the students carry the books and the shelf in. Their excitement was very visible. They began whispering to each other about the books they were getting. I helped the principal understand the procedure of checking out books, and how to keep a record. I taught him how to write down the name of the student, date checked out and the date it is supposed to be returned.
What I have done may be a very small thing to some of you, but it was clearly a very big thing for the students. My father met with the principal several weeks later, and the principal and the children were asking about me specifically. I had made a difference in their lives, and you know what, I felt good! It was the same kind of goodness I felt when I went to SOS Village Orphanage in Lahore, Pakistan, but that’s another story!
There are pictures available on www.picturetrail.com
Warmly,
Mansur
Monday, September 20, 2004
The One Where I Overcome My Gym-O-Phobia!
Howdy Y'all!
I finally did something else on my "Life's To-Do List" today! (At the rate I am going, I may well end up doing everything on my list). I joined a gym!
I know to many of you, it may seem like a small step, but for me it was a big step. You see, I went to the gym for the first time when I was in grade 11, and I was about 15 years old. I would go with three of my friends from school. However, that time at the gym was not a pleasant one. For one whole month I went to the gym, and then suddenly dropped out. I did not give any reasons to anyone why I did that. Something horrible happened at the gym, and I lived with that fear till today. (I am sure many of you may be conjuring up all the various scenarios, and let me just say, it would be premature on your part to assume whatever it was that happened!)
Many times since that time, I have tried to go to the gym. I did try to go again when I was 20 years old, but the fear would set in. I was able to go to the gym initially because I was the only person there. But several weeks later, I quit again. I couldn't see myself in that gym. With all those horrible feelings and unpleasant happenings coming back to my mind, I quit.
Through a process of healnig and renewing my mind, I decided to go to the gym, which I did today. I thought to myself, in order for me to overcome my fear, I need to face the situation. Thats the only way I can do it. Its like the character in Vertigo, Detective Scottie Ferguson, who suffers from acrophobia- the fear of heights. The only way he could overcome his fear was to face the same situation again and relive the initial shock. It is the same thing for me. I have to go to the gym again in order to get rid of my fears and phobia.
Today was my first day. I know I will have to make a lot of effort to go on a regular basis. I hope I can stay up with it. I think I will be able to, with a certain help from Someone!
Yours with-muscles-cramps,
Mansur
I finally did something else on my "Life's To-Do List" today! (At the rate I am going, I may well end up doing everything on my list). I joined a gym!
I know to many of you, it may seem like a small step, but for me it was a big step. You see, I went to the gym for the first time when I was in grade 11, and I was about 15 years old. I would go with three of my friends from school. However, that time at the gym was not a pleasant one. For one whole month I went to the gym, and then suddenly dropped out. I did not give any reasons to anyone why I did that. Something horrible happened at the gym, and I lived with that fear till today. (I am sure many of you may be conjuring up all the various scenarios, and let me just say, it would be premature on your part to assume whatever it was that happened!)
Many times since that time, I have tried to go to the gym. I did try to go again when I was 20 years old, but the fear would set in. I was able to go to the gym initially because I was the only person there. But several weeks later, I quit again. I couldn't see myself in that gym. With all those horrible feelings and unpleasant happenings coming back to my mind, I quit.
Through a process of healnig and renewing my mind, I decided to go to the gym, which I did today. I thought to myself, in order for me to overcome my fear, I need to face the situation. Thats the only way I can do it. Its like the character in Vertigo, Detective Scottie Ferguson, who suffers from acrophobia- the fear of heights. The only way he could overcome his fear was to face the same situation again and relive the initial shock. It is the same thing for me. I have to go to the gym again in order to get rid of my fears and phobia.
Today was my first day. I know I will have to make a lot of effort to go on a regular basis. I hope I can stay up with it. I think I will be able to, with a certain help from Someone!
Yours with-muscles-cramps,
Mansur
Friday, September 17, 2004
The One Where I Finally Went Snorkeling!
Hello friends,
I finally did something today that I had meaning to do in the longest of time. It was on my "Life's To-Do List."
I went snorkeling! :)
The last time I remember I went snorkeling was in Dubai in 2001 at a place called Snoopy Island (yes, Snoopy of the cartoon fame!) But what I had really wanted to do was snorkel in the Red Sea. Red Sea is known world wide for being the second most popular and famous coral reef, after Australia's Great Barrier Reef. I am still surprised the Saudi Government has not exploited this, but in a way, its good, because what I had seen today was most people damaging and ruining the spectacular beauty in the corrals.
I went to the beach early in the morning, and rented out the snorkel. Walked all the way out to the pier and went right in. I had completely forgotten how beautiful and amazing the underwater world is. Never mind Sebastian's song, Under The Sea from The Little Mermaid, or the awesome underwater world in Finding Nemo--- this is the real thing, and nothing, not even cameras, pictures, videos, can capture the mesmerizing beauty that the coral reef and fish had to offer.
The most awesome thing about snorkeling here is that you can see the coral reef, like you would see paintings on a wall. Once you cross over the reef, it drops down vertically into the abyss. At first, it was kind of scary to look down into what seemed like a never ending abyss. It was also very dark down there. Images from certain horror movies came to my mind as I imagined beasts and monsters, and sharks, lashing out from the dark onto me, biting into me and tearing me apart. Mansur, snap out of it!
What I saw here is beyond what I can say in mere words. The sun rays breaking through the water surface came down underwater as if they were rays from Heaven. Everywhere I looked, I saw a different fish. Some fish were big and not so pretty, others were small and fast, yet others were so beautiful, it would leave me breathless as to how and what colors there were. I saw colors on fish that I did not see in my Crayola crayons box (which I had when I was a kid!) I saw colors which I had no names for! Some fish had shiny scales and when the light hit on them, the fish looked like underwater stars. It was beyond belief!
There were too many fish, and I wish I had known some of their names. I asked other snorkellers, but they were as clueless as I was, and were also asking me if I knew the names of the one they liked. I think I also saw a clownfish, but it may not be ( I think it was!) However, my favorite fish was clearly a colorful one. It was about twice the length of my hand, and about twice the size of my palm. It had a black body, but with a electric neon-like blue around the edge of its body. There were stripes on it as well, and they were neon-blue stripes, with yellow outline. In between each stripe, was another color, which seemed like a mixture of purple, blue and red. Like I said, mere words cannot describe what I saw.
The corrals and anemones were another story. The different shapes and sizes and colors and textures was so incredible. I even saw those anemones where they retreat into their shell really fast when you approach them, as if a grown flower would go back into its pod! However, my favorite anemone was one that had a silky texture, and spread out like a cloth. From a distance, it clearly looked like a silk cloth, but upon closer inspection, you could see really minute strands that collectively formed a large sheet.
I snorkeled for about three hours. It was a great experience, and served as a great reminder to me about how awesome God is in His design. Only He could have come up with the so many fish, colors, size, corrals, reefs, anemones and how they all co-existed with one another. To me, the underwater seemed like a microcosm of the world we live in. Everyone is a different shape, size color and style, yet, we somehow still live with one another. (If you are thinking about the moments when the bigger fish kill the smaller fish, that part is represented by the powerful people killing the not-so-powerful people!)
I wish I could be a fish for a day and live underwater.
If anyone of you comes to Jeddah, I am going to have to drag you to the Red Sea! You will not regret the experience! (Don't worry, I have loads of sun tan!)
Yours still-swimming-away and a burnt-back-from-tanning,
Mansur
I finally did something today that I had meaning to do in the longest of time. It was on my "Life's To-Do List."
I went snorkeling! :)
The last time I remember I went snorkeling was in Dubai in 2001 at a place called Snoopy Island (yes, Snoopy of the cartoon fame!) But what I had really wanted to do was snorkel in the Red Sea. Red Sea is known world wide for being the second most popular and famous coral reef, after Australia's Great Barrier Reef. I am still surprised the Saudi Government has not exploited this, but in a way, its good, because what I had seen today was most people damaging and ruining the spectacular beauty in the corrals.
I went to the beach early in the morning, and rented out the snorkel. Walked all the way out to the pier and went right in. I had completely forgotten how beautiful and amazing the underwater world is. Never mind Sebastian's song, Under The Sea from The Little Mermaid, or the awesome underwater world in Finding Nemo--- this is the real thing, and nothing, not even cameras, pictures, videos, can capture the mesmerizing beauty that the coral reef and fish had to offer.
The most awesome thing about snorkeling here is that you can see the coral reef, like you would see paintings on a wall. Once you cross over the reef, it drops down vertically into the abyss. At first, it was kind of scary to look down into what seemed like a never ending abyss. It was also very dark down there. Images from certain horror movies came to my mind as I imagined beasts and monsters, and sharks, lashing out from the dark onto me, biting into me and tearing me apart. Mansur, snap out of it!
What I saw here is beyond what I can say in mere words. The sun rays breaking through the water surface came down underwater as if they were rays from Heaven. Everywhere I looked, I saw a different fish. Some fish were big and not so pretty, others were small and fast, yet others were so beautiful, it would leave me breathless as to how and what colors there were. I saw colors on fish that I did not see in my Crayola crayons box (which I had when I was a kid!) I saw colors which I had no names for! Some fish had shiny scales and when the light hit on them, the fish looked like underwater stars. It was beyond belief!
There were too many fish, and I wish I had known some of their names. I asked other snorkellers, but they were as clueless as I was, and were also asking me if I knew the names of the one they liked. I think I also saw a clownfish, but it may not be ( I think it was!) However, my favorite fish was clearly a colorful one. It was about twice the length of my hand, and about twice the size of my palm. It had a black body, but with a electric neon-like blue around the edge of its body. There were stripes on it as well, and they were neon-blue stripes, with yellow outline. In between each stripe, was another color, which seemed like a mixture of purple, blue and red. Like I said, mere words cannot describe what I saw.
The corrals and anemones were another story. The different shapes and sizes and colors and textures was so incredible. I even saw those anemones where they retreat into their shell really fast when you approach them, as if a grown flower would go back into its pod! However, my favorite anemone was one that had a silky texture, and spread out like a cloth. From a distance, it clearly looked like a silk cloth, but upon closer inspection, you could see really minute strands that collectively formed a large sheet.
I snorkeled for about three hours. It was a great experience, and served as a great reminder to me about how awesome God is in His design. Only He could have come up with the so many fish, colors, size, corrals, reefs, anemones and how they all co-existed with one another. To me, the underwater seemed like a microcosm of the world we live in. Everyone is a different shape, size color and style, yet, we somehow still live with one another. (If you are thinking about the moments when the bigger fish kill the smaller fish, that part is represented by the powerful people killing the not-so-powerful people!)
I wish I could be a fish for a day and live underwater.
If anyone of you comes to Jeddah, I am going to have to drag you to the Red Sea! You will not regret the experience! (Don't worry, I have loads of sun tan!)
Yours still-swimming-away and a burnt-back-from-tanning,
Mansur
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
The One Where My Worker Got Fractured
Hi!
My worker, who is my responsibility, fell off this huge water tank. Half an hour later, he comes into the office, moaning and groaning. He doesn't speak Urdu or English. The only languages he could speak was Bengali or Arabic. How I wished my driver was here! He showed me his right foot, and I could have sworn the bone was extending out. Is it fractured? Is it just a sprain? I did not touch his feet to find out!
The main office took a while to fill out all the necessary papers. Meanwhile my worker was sitting in the lobby, holding his right foot in his hand, still making painful expressions. Great, can you please hurry up with the papers? I volunteered to take my worker to the hospital, despite the main office saying that they will arrange for transportation. I could not leave my worker with them. I wanted to take him, to make it easier for him!
I quickly drove to the hospital, and I was so amazed at my worker's strength. He was in deep pain, but he was not really showing it anymore on his face. I told him that he is very brave! He gave me a smile and relaxed a little. Inside the hospital, he was made to rest on the stretcher while the doctor was paged. The doctor came, took some more time filling out papers, and then took my worker to the x-ray room. I followed him. It took another 30 minutes for the x-ray procedure to be done. I watched a movie called Road Trip while he was being x-rayed. (don't bother watching the movie...What I saw of it, was not so nice)
The x-ray revealed that my worker had a fractured right foot. Oh gosh! I saw the x-ray and almost the entire right side of his foot was pushed inwards. The doctor said that the foots needs to be operated on, and then will be put in plaster. I did not know what to say, because my worker was supposed to go on his annual vacation next week. I told my worker everything that the doctor told me, and he was very scared. I could have imagined his feelings. He is alone here. His family is back in Bangladesh. His best friend was working on site. I made sure everything was arranged for him. He got the bed, drip inserted in the upper part of the hand, blood drawn and lots of gel rubbed on his foot. He asked if he can go home. I had to tell him that he had to stay in, and get his foot operated on.
Everything happened rather quick. My boss was at the other site, and so I had to do all that I could. I never imagined that I, as an architect, would also have to do this well! Another learning experience for me. The one thing I learned for sure today is to "never jump off a 5 meters high water tank in sandals-- that's a sure way to fracture your foot (or feet)!"
Yours from-smelling-like-antiseptic,
Mansur
My worker, who is my responsibility, fell off this huge water tank. Half an hour later, he comes into the office, moaning and groaning. He doesn't speak Urdu or English. The only languages he could speak was Bengali or Arabic. How I wished my driver was here! He showed me his right foot, and I could have sworn the bone was extending out. Is it fractured? Is it just a sprain? I did not touch his feet to find out!
The main office took a while to fill out all the necessary papers. Meanwhile my worker was sitting in the lobby, holding his right foot in his hand, still making painful expressions. Great, can you please hurry up with the papers? I volunteered to take my worker to the hospital, despite the main office saying that they will arrange for transportation. I could not leave my worker with them. I wanted to take him, to make it easier for him!
I quickly drove to the hospital, and I was so amazed at my worker's strength. He was in deep pain, but he was not really showing it anymore on his face. I told him that he is very brave! He gave me a smile and relaxed a little. Inside the hospital, he was made to rest on the stretcher while the doctor was paged. The doctor came, took some more time filling out papers, and then took my worker to the x-ray room. I followed him. It took another 30 minutes for the x-ray procedure to be done. I watched a movie called Road Trip while he was being x-rayed. (don't bother watching the movie...What I saw of it, was not so nice)
The x-ray revealed that my worker had a fractured right foot. Oh gosh! I saw the x-ray and almost the entire right side of his foot was pushed inwards. The doctor said that the foots needs to be operated on, and then will be put in plaster. I did not know what to say, because my worker was supposed to go on his annual vacation next week. I told my worker everything that the doctor told me, and he was very scared. I could have imagined his feelings. He is alone here. His family is back in Bangladesh. His best friend was working on site. I made sure everything was arranged for him. He got the bed, drip inserted in the upper part of the hand, blood drawn and lots of gel rubbed on his foot. He asked if he can go home. I had to tell him that he had to stay in, and get his foot operated on.
Everything happened rather quick. My boss was at the other site, and so I had to do all that I could. I never imagined that I, as an architect, would also have to do this well! Another learning experience for me. The one thing I learned for sure today is to "never jump off a 5 meters high water tank in sandals-- that's a sure way to fracture your foot (or feet)!"
Yours from-smelling-like-antiseptic,
Mansur
Saturday, September 11, 2004
The One with The Passion of the Christ
Hi friends,
I just returned from Pakistan and Dubai today evening which explains my one week absence! I had an amazing trip, somewhat productive and hectic. The highlight of the trip was getting to see my friends in Dubai and also going ahead with the the house designs which my family will build in Pakistan! Before I get into the details of my trips, I wanted to share with you about my experience at the Customs at the Jeddah airport.
I had bought several movies from Pakistan, the cheap pirated DVDs. There were about 25 movies, ranging from The Mission, to The Village, to Fahrenheit 9/11. One movie was The Passion of the Christ. The Saudi man, who was holding my CD carrier case in his hands, looked at me, while holding my passport in the other hand. He was clean shaven, about in his mid 40s, somewhat wrinkled face, and very soft spoken.
Saudi: Are these your movies?
Me: Yes.
Saudi: I will allow you take all these movies, but I will have to stop you from one.
Me: Which one?
Saudi: The Passion of the Christ.
He was holding that movie in his hand, and made me read the title. I read it out loud: The Passion of the Christ.
Saudi: You know sir, we Muslims do not like to see our prophets like this. Islam does not allow this.
Oh yeah, then how come UAE showed it on the cinema screen? How come so many Muslims watched it? How come the movie was one of the highest selling DVD here in Jeddah? I wanted to ask him these questions, but would then get probably get myself into deeper trouble. He kept on pointing to the DVD, looking at the word "Christ." His problem was not with the "Passion" but with "Christ." He had been instructed to not allow anything "Christ"ian into this country. What, so like all books that include the word "Christ" is banned?
Saudi: Are you a Muslim?
Me: You are holding my passport! Look for yourself!
I don't know why he asked me that. He did not allow for me to take the movie. He took out his key chain, chose a large key and made four large scratches on the DVD, as if he was cutting four slices of pizza. He then offered to me to take the movie and I refused. I was glad that he damaged the DVD, otherwise the Saudi customs men are notorious for keeping stuff they would like to watch for themselves.
Now what I did not understand is: I had Ben-Hur with me. I had The Mission with me. I had Exorcist with me, which has a big cross on the DVD cover! Why didn't he stop all these movies? Why did he pick out The Passion of the Christ?
So he kept my movie. I don't know what his aim was. For in the next fifteen minutes, I could go to the market and purchase the very same movie! How much can they censor? Pretty soon, one of the movie channel will show this movie, so the whole nation can watch it. I felt really sorry for the lone Saudi man sitting in the Censorship Room at the airport. Maybe he is so naive, that he doesn't realize that all that he is preventing from entering the country, is already available out there!
Mat God help the nation of KSA come to terms with the struggle for freedom!
With more stories to come soon,
Mansur
I just returned from Pakistan and Dubai today evening which explains my one week absence! I had an amazing trip, somewhat productive and hectic. The highlight of the trip was getting to see my friends in Dubai and also going ahead with the the house designs which my family will build in Pakistan! Before I get into the details of my trips, I wanted to share with you about my experience at the Customs at the Jeddah airport.
I had bought several movies from Pakistan, the cheap pirated DVDs. There were about 25 movies, ranging from The Mission, to The Village, to Fahrenheit 9/11. One movie was The Passion of the Christ. The Saudi man, who was holding my CD carrier case in his hands, looked at me, while holding my passport in the other hand. He was clean shaven, about in his mid 40s, somewhat wrinkled face, and very soft spoken.
Saudi: Are these your movies?
Me: Yes.
Saudi: I will allow you take all these movies, but I will have to stop you from one.
Me: Which one?
Saudi: The Passion of the Christ.
He was holding that movie in his hand, and made me read the title. I read it out loud: The Passion of the Christ.
Saudi: You know sir, we Muslims do not like to see our prophets like this. Islam does not allow this.
Oh yeah, then how come UAE showed it on the cinema screen? How come so many Muslims watched it? How come the movie was one of the highest selling DVD here in Jeddah? I wanted to ask him these questions, but would then get probably get myself into deeper trouble. He kept on pointing to the DVD, looking at the word "Christ." His problem was not with the "Passion" but with "Christ." He had been instructed to not allow anything "Christ"ian into this country. What, so like all books that include the word "Christ" is banned?
Saudi: Are you a Muslim?
Me: You are holding my passport! Look for yourself!
I don't know why he asked me that. He did not allow for me to take the movie. He took out his key chain, chose a large key and made four large scratches on the DVD, as if he was cutting four slices of pizza. He then offered to me to take the movie and I refused. I was glad that he damaged the DVD, otherwise the Saudi customs men are notorious for keeping stuff they would like to watch for themselves.
Now what I did not understand is: I had Ben-Hur with me. I had The Mission with me. I had Exorcist with me, which has a big cross on the DVD cover! Why didn't he stop all these movies? Why did he pick out The Passion of the Christ?
So he kept my movie. I don't know what his aim was. For in the next fifteen minutes, I could go to the market and purchase the very same movie! How much can they censor? Pretty soon, one of the movie channel will show this movie, so the whole nation can watch it. I felt really sorry for the lone Saudi man sitting in the Censorship Room at the airport. Maybe he is so naive, that he doesn't realize that all that he is preventing from entering the country, is already available out there!
Mat God help the nation of KSA come to terms with the struggle for freedom!
With more stories to come soon,
Mansur
Thursday, September 02, 2004
The One with the Stampede!
Dear friends,
Something really horrible happened today in Jeddah. Three people died. It was really sad. The scene was chaotic at its best. Confusion, noise, traffic, huge crowds all led to a stampede that killed three people (1 Saudi, 1 Pakistani, 1 unknown). Now, I know you are thinking, what was the cause of the stampede? Well folks, the stampede occurred because people wanted to get their hands on the 500SR (Saudi Riyals) which only 50 people could get.
The Details:
Ikea, the world famous, fun, affordable furniture shop ( I must admit, I love their storage ideas) is to open their new flagship store in Jeddah and Riyadh simultaneously. In order to celebrate, Ikea advertised for one whole week in the local papers- full page advertisements. In each advertisement, they had mentioned that the first 50 customers who walk through the doors of the new Ikea will get a 500SR voucher which can be redeemed in the store. That grabbed my interest. Think of all the things you can get, mostly small items, for 500SR! I wanted to go. I had made my mind up to go early and join the queue.
I had a day off from work, got up at 7am and left. About 200 meters away from the store, traffic had built up. What's this for? Is this the early rush hour? I realize that all this traffic is for Ikea. I thought that I would be there early. Apparently, I was very late. I could see 100s and 100s of people there: busloads of women and children coming in from compounds, local Saudi women coming with their maids and children, young single men arrived in their fancy cars, working class bachelors arrived and in addition to this, there were policemen who were guiding the traffic to ease the blockage on the main street. There were two fire brigade as well. There were two ambulances as well. Gosh, what's this? A rock concert? As I drove by slowly, I could see a huge throng of crowd, clambering over one another at the main entrance of the store. There were mostly women, in their black abayas sitting, standing, walking around fast impatiently-- they seemed like flies hovering all over the Ikea store. And there were still two more hours to the opening! One look at the number of people, I made a u-turn and drove back. The 500Sr did not seem THAT important to me now!
What transpired later was that the management were forced to open the doors earlier because there were people that numbered close to 3000! People jumped and shrieked in excitement when the doors opened at 9am and not 10am. These 3000 people came just to get the voucher. Unfortunately, the people were too many, the policemen were too little, and in the process, the glass doors were broken, blood was spilt here and there, people were injured and eventually three people died in the mad rush.
That got me thinking: How far would I go to do something for money?
The last thing I can remember that I did something like this was back in London in 1998, and in 2003, although not for money. In 1998, I stood in the line at the bookshop for the signing of Bag of Bones by my then favorite author, Stephen King. I was a big fan of his and the three hours waiting in line gave me a chance to meet him, shake his hands, take a picture of him and get the book signed by him personally. In 2003, I stood in the same line at the same bookshop for the signing of the book Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho (author of The Alchemist). This time I stood for five hours! When I told this to some people, they gasped and balked at me: "You stood for five hours!! Are you crazy??" Of course, they had no idea how much Coelho's books meant to me.
But when I came here to Ikea, I decided to not stay in the line. For money, I would not do something like this. I think of the three people who died, of what they must have been thinking when they got up that morning. Little did they knew that they would meet death at the main entrance of Ikea!
Think about it: how far would you go for money?
Yours from having-returned-from-the-stampede,
Mansur
Something really horrible happened today in Jeddah. Three people died. It was really sad. The scene was chaotic at its best. Confusion, noise, traffic, huge crowds all led to a stampede that killed three people (1 Saudi, 1 Pakistani, 1 unknown). Now, I know you are thinking, what was the cause of the stampede? Well folks, the stampede occurred because people wanted to get their hands on the 500SR (Saudi Riyals) which only 50 people could get.
The Details:
Ikea, the world famous, fun, affordable furniture shop ( I must admit, I love their storage ideas) is to open their new flagship store in Jeddah and Riyadh simultaneously. In order to celebrate, Ikea advertised for one whole week in the local papers- full page advertisements. In each advertisement, they had mentioned that the first 50 customers who walk through the doors of the new Ikea will get a 500SR voucher which can be redeemed in the store. That grabbed my interest. Think of all the things you can get, mostly small items, for 500SR! I wanted to go. I had made my mind up to go early and join the queue.
I had a day off from work, got up at 7am and left. About 200 meters away from the store, traffic had built up. What's this for? Is this the early rush hour? I realize that all this traffic is for Ikea. I thought that I would be there early. Apparently, I was very late. I could see 100s and 100s of people there: busloads of women and children coming in from compounds, local Saudi women coming with their maids and children, young single men arrived in their fancy cars, working class bachelors arrived and in addition to this, there were policemen who were guiding the traffic to ease the blockage on the main street. There were two fire brigade as well. There were two ambulances as well. Gosh, what's this? A rock concert? As I drove by slowly, I could see a huge throng of crowd, clambering over one another at the main entrance of the store. There were mostly women, in their black abayas sitting, standing, walking around fast impatiently-- they seemed like flies hovering all over the Ikea store. And there were still two more hours to the opening! One look at the number of people, I made a u-turn and drove back. The 500Sr did not seem THAT important to me now!
What transpired later was that the management were forced to open the doors earlier because there were people that numbered close to 3000! People jumped and shrieked in excitement when the doors opened at 9am and not 10am. These 3000 people came just to get the voucher. Unfortunately, the people were too many, the policemen were too little, and in the process, the glass doors were broken, blood was spilt here and there, people were injured and eventually three people died in the mad rush.
That got me thinking: How far would I go to do something for money?
The last thing I can remember that I did something like this was back in London in 1998, and in 2003, although not for money. In 1998, I stood in the line at the bookshop for the signing of Bag of Bones by my then favorite author, Stephen King. I was a big fan of his and the three hours waiting in line gave me a chance to meet him, shake his hands, take a picture of him and get the book signed by him personally. In 2003, I stood in the same line at the same bookshop for the signing of the book Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho (author of The Alchemist). This time I stood for five hours! When I told this to some people, they gasped and balked at me: "You stood for five hours!! Are you crazy??" Of course, they had no idea how much Coelho's books meant to me.
But when I came here to Ikea, I decided to not stay in the line. For money, I would not do something like this. I think of the three people who died, of what they must have been thinking when they got up that morning. Little did they knew that they would meet death at the main entrance of Ikea!
Think about it: how far would you go for money?
Yours from having-returned-from-the-stampede,
Mansur
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